The whiskey burns
by amused-cat23
Summary: My one shot Damon fan fic! Some angsty and alcoholic goodness! XD    Rated M solely for language. Slight incest. Only slight.


I slammed my glass down with such force that it shattered in my hand. The glass burned as it wedged itself into my skin as it was covered in whiskey. I chuckled darkly. Whiskey usually takes the pain away, but it failed today. Everything did.

_I'm surprised that you'd think I would kiss you back_.

"Fuck." My back hit the wall and I slid down and slumped onto the floor. I watched idly as the shards were pushed out of my palm as my skin healed. Pity. I wouldn't even have a scar. I could cut myself, but no one would know. Isn't half the fun of cutting to have people see the scars and realize you're fucked up? Yet another thing that I was shit out of luck in.

She'd never be mine. Hell, she'd never want to be mine. So why did I think things would be different? I'm such an idiot.

But Stefan's not. Oh noooooooo. Stefan's a fucking saint. He can do no wrong. Everyone I love is madly infatuated with that prick. The prick who goes crazy when he has a taste of human blood. While he was hunting Bambi, I learned how to control myself.

Who's the idiot now?

Still me. Fuck.

_Slam_.

My eyes dart to the door. He's come home. I heave myself off the floor and stand with my arms crossed, trying to look manlier. After all, I am the older brother, even if all I really want to is cry in bed right now.

Stefan spots me, and drops his gaze. "Uh… I wasn't expecting you here."

Oh, that's a hoot! "Well, I live here, don't I?"

Stefan's eyes narrow. "Sure you do. I was just thinking that you'd be off slaughtering people, since that's what you do when things don't go your way."

Now it's my turn to look pissed. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Stefan chuckles darkly, "You don't think Elena told me? That you tried to make a move on her, but ended up sucking face with Katherine? Then, when you talk to Elena about it, she tells you that she'd never kiss you. Yeah, Damon, I know. I know everything."

I can't say anything. I don't know what hurts more, the fact that Elena told him or the fact that Stefan said it so smugly. "You better wipe that fucking smile off your face, or I'll do it for you."

Stefan turns around, smirk still on his face. "Maybe you should go back to where ever it is that you were before. You should get away from all the people you love who don't love you back."

"You fucking bastard!" Alcohol coming into play, I lunge at him and knock him to the ground, pinning him under me.

I laugh in his face. "You are such a weakling! A REAL vampire would've been able to stop me, but you like to eat rabbits and squirrels and have no strength! HA!"

Stefan just stares up at me with that damn smirk on his face. "I'm not the one drowning his sorrows in whiskey. So, who's the weakling now?"

I punch him in the face hard enough to break his nose. I lick the blood off my knuckles. "Still you, little brother."

While I'm preoccupied with cleaning off my knuckles, he is able to free himself enough to knock me to the ground and pin me down.

Now, before you get on my case, all this happened in, like, half a second.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME, YOU FILTHY BASTARD!" Stefan's smirk just grows. His nose is already starting to heal itself, but there's still a bit of blood running out of his nose and over his lips. Suddenly, I'm not so angry anymore. All I want to do is to clean off the blood from his face.

With my tongue.

Stefan looks down at me, but his eyes have softened a bit. "Damon, I-"

I cut him off before he could finish by pushing him off of me and grabbing his face. Hey! I finally got that damn smirk off his face!

"DAMON! WHA-!" I silence him by crushing my lips on his, using my tongue to lap up his red stuff.

Then, I realize that he is my brother, and I get really grossed out. I push away from him, but I still have him between my legs, which is not a good thing. We just look at each other, surprised. In my head, I'm screaming.

Stefan's mouth is hanging open in shock, and I reeeeeeeeeally wish he'd close it, so I'm not tempted again. Seeming to read my mind, he does, slamming his teeth together with a loud _SNAP_.

Other than that, neither of us move. Slowly, I become hyperaware that there is something very wrong with this picture: both of us have boners. If I blushed, my face would be bright red. Stefan, on the other hand, is a chronic blusher, and I'm sure he has enough of one for the both of us. I want to look away, but I find it hard to pull my eyes away from his green ones.

He inches closer to my face. Then, it seems I'm having an out of body experience, as I see him moving closer to me, but I do nothing to stop it. I can't make myself stop him. In fact, I'm moving closer to him, which isn't what I should be doing. Bad Damon! Stop that! NOW!

Our lips meet again, but this times, it isn't as rough. In fact, it's sweet, almost hesitant.

Like a first kiss.

Just like that, all the anger and sadness I felt earlier melts away and all I'm left with is soaring hope. Hope that this will never end, hope that I never leave, hope that Stefan feels the same as I do and, good God almighty, hope that we can bump this up a notch.

And just like that, Stefan's gone. And just like that, I realize that I'm still slumped on the ground, shards of glass impaled into my palm.

And I'm numb, except for the burn of the whiskey in my wounds.


End file.
